


Stained Sweet

by genee



Category: Popslash
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-06-01
Updated: 2005-06-01
Packaged: 2017-10-12 03:19:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 812
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/120210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/genee/pseuds/genee
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Hot didn't even begin to cover it, there was heat rolling off them in waves, they were in heat, maybe, slick and sweaty and JC could smell it, could smell himself and Joey, too.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Stained Sweet

**Author's Note:**

  * For [therisingmoon](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=therisingmoon).



> By request, on Lambs Day 2005.

God, they were gorgeous, JC thought, sixteen kinds of wrong, seventeen, maybe, but they were still gorgeous, Justin with his back pressed against the wall, bare-chested and flushed, smudged make-up and shiny red track pants just hanging off his hips. And Lance, pressed up against Justin, bright twist of fabric caught around his ankle, damp and tangled, sweat dripping down the back of his fucking _dress_ , hot pink and stretchy and god, his ass was perfect in that thing, Justin couldn't keep his eyes off it during the shoot, couldn't keep his hands off it now, and shit, Justin had big fucking hands.

"Shit," Joey whispered in his ear, and JC almost jumped out of his skin, would have if Joey's arm hadn't slipped around his waist, holding him right where he was. "This is--" and JC tensed, waiting, waiting for Joey to say it, but Lance moaned, low and needy and Justin's legs slid open a little more. He turned Lance around and pulled him close, almost like Joey was holding JC except Joey's hands weren't doing what Justin's hands were doing, weren't, weren't, "Fuck," Joey breathed. "Fuck, that's hot."

Hard curve of Lance's dick against his belly, obscene and beautiful, dress hitched high on his thighs, eyes closed, head thrown back, tight little nipples peaking against rough fabric, Justin's fingers twisting mercilessly, wet lips against Lance's throat leaving marks that might've been lipstick and might not've, mouthing words too soft for JC to hear. Lance's eyes fluttered open, pale green and dazed, and JC heard Joey's breath hitch behind him, heard Lance moan again, throaty and so close.

Hot didn't even begin to cover it, there was heat rolling off them in waves, they were _in heat_ , maybe, slick and sweaty and JC could smell it, could smell himself and Joey, too, both them hard, Joey's dick pressed against his hip, strong arm around his waist. JC couldn't tear his eyes away from the pretty boys in girl's clothing, wigs abandoned on the set somewhere, dark circle of pre-come staining Lance's dress, his hips thrusting against nothing before Justin's hands slid down and held them still, tight grip, tight everything, corded muscles everywhere and JC could see Justin holding himself back, holding Lance against him and just breathing him in.

A minute, maybe longer, soft sounds and softer promises, Joe's, his, Lance's low murmur, just a minute before Justin's fingers were in Lance's mouth and Justin's hips took over, a slow grind, lethal, legs splayed and Lance's hands pushing Justin's warm-ups past his hips, over the high lift of his ass, milky skin and dark shadows, slippery red fabric pooling on the floor.

"Oh, shit," Joey whispered again, warm breath on JC's throat, scratchy stubble and the brush of his lips. JC shivered, it was too good, all of this, the bob of Lance's adam's apple, Justin's wet fingers trailing over his throat, tracing his collarbone and back around to the nape of his neck. Lance's dick jerked under the fabric of his dress, another spurt of pre-come, and JC didn't need to see Justin's hand anymore to know what he was doing. "C," Joey breathed, "C, fuck, are they really?"

JC swallowed hard, Lance's dress hitched way up and JC knew Justin's dick was sliding underneath, sweet and sweatslick and they weren't fucking, not yet, and maybe they wouldn't, not with both of them so close now, Lance's head thrown back and Justin's tipped forward, bleach-blond curls and freckled shoulders, voices wrapped around each other like extra limbs, like they were meant to be.

Joey shifted behind him, cursing, open mouth sliding against the back of his neck, strong arms wrapped around him and JC couldn't believe Chris was missing this. He should be here, JC thought, pressed against him like JC was pressed against Joey, like Lance was pressed Justin, just like that, fuck, so sweet JC could almost taste it, Chris's hair in his mouth, thick and twisty.

Joey's breath in his ear, tongue and teeth, Justin's hips stuttering, losing their rhythm, one hand twisting into Lance's dress, pulling it tight, white knuckles and torn fabric, and oh, god Justin was coming, gasping into Lance's mouth. JC could almost feel it, could see the wet head of his own dick just under the loose waist of jeans, Joey's fingers spreading on his belly and Justin's lower lip caught in Lance's teeth, Justin's big hand closing over Lance's dick, finally, finally, damp heat and dark friction and god, they really were gorgeous, kissing and kissing, Lance's low rumble building up between them.

"Chris," JC hissed, soft syllable slipping under the sounds caught in Justin's throat, in Joey's, Lance coming in hot spurts, pretty boys and ruined make-up, Lance's dress in tatters, stained sweet and still, JC thought it might be the most beautiful thing he'd ever seen.  
   
   


\-- End -- 


End file.
